The End Of A Dynasty
by DreamMerchant87
Summary: Brittany Romanov, the second eldest princess of Tsar Nicholas II, falls in love with a gypsy street performer after sneaking out one night to experience life outside of the Winter Palace. (Rated M for language and violence in later chapters.)
1. Grand Duchess

**A/N: **Hey awesome people who decide to read my story. I've been reading Fan Fics for a while and decided to finally put an idea I've had down and share it. I hope you all enjoy it. It starts off with a lot of inner dialogue and contemplation. Especially around Brittany.

I'm sure this story's general skeleton is familiar particularly if you are familiar with Russian history.

All mistakes are my own. I have no Beta, but if you wanna help me. Let me know :)

Please review. Any feedback is helpful feedback.

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**January 1914**

**Brittany**

The carriage rumbles loudly along the streets of Moscow the steady clip clop of the horses hooves strangely in time with my heart. I wiggle uncomfortably in my seat, I hate having to wear a stupid corset. Sighing, I rest my head against the carriage window vibrations rattling me pleasantly, watching as the street lights flicker like stars as we pass. Despite the hour of the night there seems to be a large amount of people walking the streets. I watch as they laugh, smoke on their pipes, drink vodka, or watch as their children play clumsily in the snow. I smile while watching the kids, then sigh sadly. I never got the chance to just enjoy snow. Would I ever?

My eldest sister clears her throat and looks at me as to ask me what's wrong. I shake my head softly at her as my brother, Sam's, head collapses suddenly into my lap and a small snore escapes his fragile body. I run my hand through his hair and sigh again. I wish I was granted the opportunity to just collapse in a heap and sleep for the rest of my life.

Or at least until a Prince charming came along and awakened me with a kiss.

Yes, like Sleeping Beauty. I dream to have a life in which a Prince Charming would one day kiss me and sweep me off my feet. For Romeo to capture my heart and enchant me. Without the dying, of course. Sadly, I had to sneak a chance to read Shakespeare. Despite being related to the English aristocracy and monarchy, and being fluent in the language, my mother banned anything to do with English literature in our house. I have no idea as to why she held these strong feelings towards the English. I wish I knew.

I wish for a lot of things. I wish for normalcy. I wish for love. I wish for warmth. I wish for freedom. I wish for a small house on the edge of a forest with kids running around. I wish for a different family. No, I take that back, I love my father, mother, brother and my sisters dearly. I just wish for a different family setting.

I allow my gaze to wander back out the window that my head is leaning against. I watch as we round upon Red Square. The area is so very lively. Merchants gather and street performers perform. One day I wish to be able to go there, if only for an hour, to experience the rich culture that seems to exist there. I hear Quinn sigh and look to see she too is also staring longingly out the window. I smile at her sadly.

The carriage makes small work of heading around the square and quickly trotting back towards the palace. As we approach, closer to 'home' the colourfulness of the centre of the city diminishes. A cold air comes over me as though I have been drenched in a ton of ice water from the lakes in Siberia.

The great wrought iron gates squeal open in protest as four of the, what seems like thousands of, Cossacks that work for us maneuver them open. As we pass by them one of the men smiles at me in a flirtatious manner and a disgusting feeling instantly infiltrates the pit of my stomach. I hate the Cossacks.

No, I lie, I don't hate all the Cossacks. My personal body guard, Blaine is a very well mannered Cossack. He is delightful and doesn't give off that, oh so disgusting pedophile vibe that I've had to deal with ever since I can remember

The journey along the driveway up to the palace is almost as long as the journey from wherever it was we were watching the ballet this time. I do have to admit it's always a great honour to watch Anna Pavlova dance, and I am a great dance fan. But there's only so much ballet one can be forced to watch in a day. Matinee plus evening. Friday through to Sunday. Smelly old men and snooty women. No thank you.

When I was a girl, I had teachers from the Bolshoi come to the palace to teach me dance. I showed a certain penchant for it, my instructor, Mikhail spoke of many different opportunities afforded to someone who showed such an aptitude for Ballet. I loved it. When I turned 13 though, my mother stopped, it saying something along the lines of education is to be of upmost importance for diplomatic and blah blah, I don't remember what she said other than it involved education and diplomacy. I honestly believe it was more because it would grant me the opportunity to leave Russia.

We can't have someone with such lineage whoring herself out dancing, prancing out in the wilderness, now, can we?

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As we approach the palace, Quinn rouses Sam from his slumber and I try to rearrange my dress. The carriage comes to a slow halt at the doors of the Winter Palace. The door is opened and a blast of cold air hits me immediately. I begin to shiver. I hate the cold.

"Blaine, is papa home?" I hear Sam ask Blaine as he is carefully guided from the carriage. Sam needs help with everything his poor body is too fragile. Even the smallest bump could have him bleed out. The joys of hemophilia.

Blaine glances at Quinn, Holly and I with a pained look upon his face. Sam is a Daddy's and Mummy's boy. He always has been and always will be. He's the favourite. Having to tell him that papa isn't here always ends up in him spending the next day locked in his room with his nanny Marley.

Kitty quickly climbs out of the carriage and bundles up to Blaine with a sneer upon her face.

"Samuel, of course he's not home. He's too busy for us remember?"

A sniffle is heard loud and clear as Sam begins to cry

"Kitty!" the three of us yell at her in horror

"What? I'm just being honest!"

"Inappropriate. Go inside! I shall be telling mother about this" Quinn growls at Kitty as she crosses her arms and storms off. Holly climbs out of the carriage and takes Sam, thanking Blaine, as she walks into the house I can hear my older sister soothing Sam. She's going to be an amazing mother.

I watch as Quinn makes her way inside too. Thinking about what lays hidden behind those doors. I hear a shuffling and look up to see Blaine, his black hair slicked back with snow flakes landing upon it. He holds his hand out and smiles at me. The perfect gentleman.

"What's on your mind Britt?" he asks as I take his hand and climb from the carriage. I smile at Blaine. He's my best friend. Despite the fact my father pays for his services. I've known Blaine since I was a baby. We grew up together. His mother works in our kitchen.

"Have you ever been to Red Square at night?" I ask him boldly. I eye him. He seems taken a back and somewhat confused at my question.

"Yes, of course I have. It's a fun place to go to. Plenty to see" He smiles at me knowing me well enough to know where this conversation is heading.

"I want to go. We drove past there before and I saw some performers. I want to have one night of being normal. Of not being noticed. I just want to experience everything."

Blaine looks at me sadly and links his arm through mine as we walk through the large front doors of the Winter Palace.

"Well Princess, sadly I don't think that's going to happen for you ever. You don't get the luxury of being nameless. You can't hide from anybody. Everybody knows who Grand Duchess Brittany Romanov is. You can't escape who you are. You have to accept that this is your life, whether you want it to be or not."

We slow to the foot of the stairs. And I look sadly at him taking in what he said. I smile sadly knowing he's right as he kisses me cheek and wishes me a good night. I guess somehow I have to learn that normalcy isn't something that will ever be available to me.


	2. From Riches To Rags

A/N: Hey guys, I thought I'd update again so you could get more of a feel towards what's gonna happen with this story. Also to set a background for Santana.

Thank you all so much for the reviews. I just thought I'd answer some questions.

Of course Brittana is endgame. But, it doesn't mean there won't be some incredibly tough hurdles along the way.

I won't give away whether or not this is going to end up like the real Romanov story as I think that really takes away from the rest of the story. So, you'll just have to wait to find out if Brittany end's up with that same fate.

Again thank you all so much! I am excited thus far about the response :)

Please Review.

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**January 1914**

**Santana **

The sunlight reflects off the snow and bores holes straight into my eyes as I sit upon the step of the wooden caravan I share with my siblings. My breath in the air is like fire and I feel like a dragon from the legends I've read from the orient. It's still unnaturally early in the morning. A scowl crosses my face as I think about the violent manner in which I was awoken.

My sister forcefully punched me in the nose whilst she was sleeping. For such a tiny person in such a deep slumber, she was able to put a lot of force behind it. My nose still stings. And I'm still astonished that neither Rachel nor Puck showed a hint of alertness after my outburst at the sleeping midget.

I forgive her already though. I understand why it happened.

I look around at the other caravans parked along the banks of the Moskva river. A lot were worn down. The other Romani people had been here longer. We were still the new comers to this foreign land. I sigh and pull the scratchy blanket closer around myself. I miss Spain. I long for the heat. I hate the cold. I detest it with a passion. I didn't want to come to Russia, I would have been fine with jumping the boarder and a ship in Portugal and head to Brazil. But Puck didn't agree. And seeing as Puck was now in charge, who was I to disagree?

I loathe thinking about everything that has eventuated in the last five years.

My mother died of dysentery. Leaving my father to look after the three of us. I miss my mother and all she afforded us. She was loving and caring. Her hugs were warm and filled with love. She valued the importance of education. She made sure we were educated in language, literature and mathematics. I am fluent in 5 different languages because she insisted upon it. We were also educated in the way of the Romani. Rachel and I were both taught dance, music and divination. Puck was taught music and how to use his hands.

Now that I think about it, it is as if she was preparing us for something like this.

After my mother died everything turned to, well. Shit. Papi went insane, he started gambling and ended up in trouble with some nasty men. Long story short, he was murdered, as the three of us hid in the same room he was in. They wanted us kids as well but they couldn't find us. Then as they left, they set our house on fire. We escaped. Though Rachel suffered some burns to her arms. Realizing we were in a lot of trouble if we were seen, we fled Spain. Being Romani afforded us an out in which Puck insisted we take. And for good reason too. It's easier to hide as a nomadic person, within a group of people then it is to try and blend in with the people around you in a big city. It sounds strange, but us Romani stick out like a sore thumb in a city.

A cool breeze chills me to the bones and I decide it's best if I head inside. It's far too cold in Russia. I don't like it. But, I know deep down, it was the safest place for us.

Opening the small door I climb back inside and instantly my ears are attacked by Pucks loud snoring. What is it about men that makes them so inable to sleep quietly? I shuffle to our small cupboard area and search for some oats or something to make for breakfast. A mouse quickly springs from the cupboard I open and I curse loudly. Dropping a bowl. From the corner of my eye I see Rachel spring up from bed ready for a fight, when she notices it was just me being a clumsy fool, she chuckles to herself.

"Jesus Santana, what are you doing?" she asks as she sleepily approaches me rubbing her eyes.

"Making some breakfast, do you want some?" I offer.

Rachel nods as I get to work she its down upon the wooden chair Puck built for us so we wouldn't have to sit on the could earth, whilst we cook. I pray to god that there isn't any more mice hidden deep within the cupboards and search for something to eat. Pulling out half a loaf of bread I sigh.

"We need to go into the square earlier tonight, we are running out of food again." I state simply as I withdraw a knife and slice the bread nicely, then handing a piece to Rachel. Who quickly stuffs it in her mouth and nods in agreement.

Pucks snore fills the caravan again and I roll my eyes as I slice myself a piece of bread.

"Oh my god, why can't he sleep quietly!" Rachel growls, getting up from her seat and approaching a defenseless Puck she takes a swing at him, waking him from his slumber.

"What the fuck! Rachel! What the fuck was that for!" He growls

"Get up, we need to go into town." She replies simply and I chuckle to myself. People think I'm the intimidating one, but really it's Rachel you need to be wary of. I watch as Puck lies back down in his bedding. Rachel shakes her head and kicks him in the side.

"I said get up NOAH!" She yells. I can't contain my laughter as a giggle escapes. She sends a glare in my direction and I return to slicing the loaf of bread. I hear a grumble and movement as Noah gets up and heads outside, for what, I don't wan to know. Rachel moves back to the seat and hums to herself softly. I take another slice of bread and move over to my designated area. I pull out a piece of paper and a pen and begin to draw.

After a while Noah clambers back into the Caravan with a smile.

"Good morning ladies! How about we head into the centre of the city and do some shopping! I need new shoes and I also won some money!" his enthusiasm a marked improvement from his surly attitude earlier.

"Bella is now ready to take us into town. We shall be spending the day there in the city so we will be taking the caravan! Are you both ready?" He doesn't wait for an answer, just claps his hands and crawls out of the caravan again. I can hear him climbing up into the drivers seat and a short moment later the caravan lurches forward. I grumble at my now inability to finish my drawing and go and sit with Rachel.

I can feel her watch me as we move along from the encampment on the bank. The haunting dead trees upon the river bank stand imposingly and the whole land feels dead and depressed.

"I miss home." She whispers sadly. I nod and take her hand in my mine. And gaze out the window.

"I miss it too." I reply softly and close my eyes, thinking back to a warmer time.


	3. Behind Palace Walls Lies A Troll

**A/N: Another update. Thank you again for the reviews, favourites and follows. The reception towards this story has been awesome. And just thank you all.**

**Guest: **like I said, I'm not going to reveal whether or not Brittany is killed. That would defeat the purpose of anybody reading this right through to the end. It's not designed to be a happy story from get go. Obviously, after reading this chapter it will become apparent. There will be good times and bad times. If you are looking for a happy romantic no troubles fic, then I suggest you not read this one. It's dramatic but that's only one side of the Rubik cube that is this story. Whether or not you wish to carry on reading is your prerogative.

**alex21hhr:** Thank you for commenting on both chapters :) You Rock.

**SomeAreLakes: **I also have a strange fascination with Russian History and literature. So much so it was one of my focuses at university. It's got such a diverse and rich history. It's a shame people don't hear much of it asides the communist period.

**And to everybody else who reviewed, thank you :)**

**On with the story.**

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**Please Review**

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**July 29  
1914**

**Brittany**

"**Мишка косолапый по лесу идёт**

(A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest)

**Шишки собирает, песенки поет.**

(He was gathering pine cones and singing songs)

**Шишка отвалилась прямо мишке в лоб.**

(A pine cone fell directly onto his forehead.)

**Мишка рассердиля и ногою топ!"**

(The little bear got angry and stamped his foot!)

I groan as I am slowly bought into the land of conscious thought and pull my blankets over my head. Who is traipsing through the castle at this hour singing a children's song? I close my eyes and snuggle back down as the singing dies down, but just as I am letting sleep take over my body again the song rips through my room even louder than before.

"**Мишка косолапый по лесу идёт**

(A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest)

**Шишки собирает, песенки поет.**

(He was gathering pine cones and singing songs)

**Шишка отвалилась прямо мишке в лоб.**

(A pine cone fell directly onto his forehead.)

**Мишка рассердиля и ногою топ!"**

(The little bear got angry and stamped his foot!)

I pull the covers from around my head and sit up quickly. The voice is very familiar and it's singing past my room. Shit. I throw my covers off my bed and run towards my door, opening it I use the doorways arch as leverage and slingshot my self down the hall way running. I growl as I see him slowly approach the door that I knew he was intended for. Luckily I know this palace inside and out and sneak through a secret passageway. There are passageways that lead into each room incase we need to make an escape. Some of my ancestors were, you could say paranoid. I run down the passageway and reach the door quickly. I throw it open and startle my sister she looks at me quizzically as I try and catch my breath. There's a knock at her door and she frowns moving to get up and answer.

"QUINN DON'T!" I hiss at her. She looks at me even more confused

"What? It's probably just Marley" she hisses back. I shake my head in panic as another knock rings out.

"Rasputin" I hiss at her. As soon as I say that foul name the colour automatically drains from her face, turning in to the perfect shade of white. I gesture for her to come to me and hide in the passageway. She quickly makes her way over to me as the knock rings out again and the sluggish voice rings through the door, sending ripples of disgust through my body. We quickly close the door quietly.

"Quinny, I know you are in there!" his voice echoes again. Quinn inhales in panic and starts shaking beside me. I put my arm around her and hold her. The door to her room is opened and his singing resumes.

"**Мишка косолапый по лесу идёт**

(A clumsy little bear was walking through the forest)

**Шишки собирает, песенки поет.**

(He was gathering pine cones and singing songs)

**Шишка отвалилась прямо мишке в лоб.**

(A pine cone fell directly onto his forehead.)

**Мишка рассердиля и ногою топ!"**

(The little bear got angry and stamped his foot!)

Quinn lets out a sob as we hear him shuffle through her room.

"Come on Quinn, I know you are in here. You haven't left your room this morning. I've been waiting patiently." His voice penetrates the walls and hangs over us like a dark cloud. I close my eyes and pray to god that I managed to get to Quinn before he did.

He continues to shuffle through Quinn's room as I sit with her trembling in my arms. We both curse the day our mother and father, but more so my mother invited Finn Rasputin into our lives.

My brother has hemophilia, meaning his tiny body has the inability to control blood clotting or coagulation, so if he hurts himself, it's particularly difficult to stop. When doctors could not help Sam, my mum turned desperate and looked everywhere for help. Sam is the future leader of the nation and Mum and Dad's favourite child.; She turned to her best friend, Emma Pillsbury, who had met some mystic healer and begged for her help to get him to the palace and cure Sam. Rasputin apparently posessed the ability to heal through prayer. And did manage to help Sam in spite of the doctors' prediction that he would die. One time Sam fell off a horse and he was bleeding internally as well as externally bleeding, and to everyone's surprise the Tsarevich got better the next day, because of Rasputin.

Despite the fact he was able to heal Sam, Quinn, Holly and I hated him beyond words. Sam and Kitty were too young to know what Rasputin was up to and didn't understand our coldness towards him. He was an intimidating figure. And disgusting.

As Sam got older, Rasputin's interests drifted from looking after him to sex. In particular, with my Mother. He waited until my father was away doing monarchy, diplomatic aristocracy things and he and my mother would engage in an affair. Many times had one of us older girls, unfortunately, seen them engage in the act. We had been sworn to keep our mouths shut or we would be forced to Siberia.

To be honest I didn't care about my mother's extra marital activities. It was she who had to face up to the consequences of her actions when my father eventually found out. It was the fact that, recently, Rasputin had set his eyes upon Quinn.

Quinn is two years younger than me and is just starting to grow into her body. I noticed the way that as she aged, Rasputin would leer at her, that filthy way the Cossacks leer at me. One day, I was coming down to the kitchen to grab a drink of water for Kitty when I walked in on Rasputin with Quinn pinned against the wall his hand touching her. Tears falling silently down her cheeks. Since then I've made myself extra aware and alert of what he is up to around my sisters. I know Holly also has encountered a similar situation.

People think that we are some stupid imbeciles who don't notice anything that happens around us. But we are alert and aware of things. More so than most people. Being part of the Royal family doesn't keep you sheltered from a lot of things.

Finn is an imposing figure; he's very tall with a long wizards beard and dark soulless eyes. He never brushes his teeth nor does he bathe often. He smells beyond what words can express. I can't even describe how disgusting he is.

He is a troll.

I accidentally chuckle out loud and I hear him grunt. Quinn starts shaking violently now as he approaches the hidden door.

"Oh, Quinny? Are you hiding from me? You can't hide from me forever. Your father will one day educate me on all these passageways. I know exist."

I'm holding my breath, fearful that any sound could alert him to where we are hiding. We could easily exit the passageway and go to my room or downstairs to the parlour or somewhere but that would involve making noises as we shuffle out. We can't risk that.

"Come on Quinn you know you want to come and have a prayer session with me." He tries. He starts moving around again when a knock on the door startles us both. Quinn gasps audibly and I can hear Finn arrogantly scoff in triumph. He knows where we are. I cover Quinns mouth with my hand as the door is knocked upon again.

"Princess, I'm coming in, your mother wants me to make sure you are alright." I sigh in relief as the door squeaks open. And a muffled "shit" is heard.

Thank god for Blaine.

"Rasputin. What are you doing within the Princess' private quarters? 'Tis not permitted unless permission is given from the Tsar directly. And I know who has permission. You do not, your holiness." Blaine explains calmly and softly.

"It is no business of yours what I am doing within the Princess' chambers. Perhaps she invited me in here, Cossack." Rasputin snaps at Blaine. I wish I could see Blaine's face right now. He hates Rasputin with a passion.

"I know Princess Quinn, and I very much doubt she has willingly invited you to enter her quarters. Might I suggest you leave now, or should I alert the Tsar as to your inappropriateness when it comes to his daughter's private quarters?" Blaine manages to combine a threat with politeness in the most dignified way.

"Fine. This time Cossack." Rasputin snarls as footsteps are heard walking away from where Quinn and I are safely hidden. Though as soon as the footsteps start, they've stopped. I frown, wondering what has happened. But it is clear when Rasputin's voice angrily growls

"Let go of me you disgusting Cossack." I hear him spit. He literally spat on my best friend. I wish I could leave this spot and beat Finn with all I have.

"You throw Cossack around like it is the worst thing on the planet. Need I remind you peasant, that you were not long ago a nomadic drunkard who thought he could do magic tricks." Blaine states evenly.

"What do you want." Rasputin asks simply.

"If I catch you looking at any of the Princess' at all, I will skin you alive. If I catch you in any of their rooms again. I will torture you beyond anything you can imagine. If I find out what you've been doing to Quinn is what I suspect you've been doing to Quinn, you are going to suffer beyond anything you can ever imagine." Blaine whispers in a pleasant tone.

Rasputin grunts as his footsteps take off again until they are unable to be heard. Different footsteps approach the passageway door gently and within a few seconds the door is gently opened. Light streaming in as Blaine stands there frowning.

"I thought I'd find you in here." He says calmly as Quinn flings herself at him hold onto him tight. Blaine is my best friend. But he's like a big brother to Quinn. I step out of the passage way and smile at him.

"Thank you Blaine."

He just nods and rubs Quinn's back calming her down. I shiver as the cold begins to hit me.

"Quinn, I'm going to change then, we shall get breakfast together?" She smiles at me and nods, hurrying to her wardrobe to pick out her clothes for the day.

Blaine walks with me to Quinn's door, closing it behind him. He kisses my cheek and then leans against the wall.

"I'm going to stay here and wait for Quinn, then accompany her to the dining room, just incase that disgusting urchin comes back.

"Thank you Blaine, for everything."

He just smiles and shoos me away. I turn and head back to my room shaking my head.

What a fantastic start to the morning.


	4. Mobilization

**A/N: **So it feels like the last chapter wasn't all that popular. But it was necessary which may sound strange, but everything will lead up to something important later on in the story. This is the second part to the previous chapter. No Brittana interaction yet. Not for another couple of chapters. But I hope you all enjoy this chapter.

I don't speak Russian fluently. I speak a couple of words here and there, I picked them up from my family who grew up in the Soviet block. Swear words basically is the extent of my Russian language knowledge.

Thank you for the reviews and the follows I appreciate everyone of you :).

If you wanna chat sometime hit me up on twitter; DreamMerchant87 :)

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**Please Review**

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**29 July  
1914**

**Brittany**

I stare intently analyzing myself in the mirror. The clothes that had been laid out for me to wear today were exquisite as usual. Running my hand through my hair I admire the delicate intricate detail on the dress I'm wearing. I hope whoever designed it was well paid. I also must thank Tina for purchasing it. It's beautiful and blue, it matches my eyes in a way I don't think anything ever has before.

It's nice to take time to admire myself. It may sound vein, but I know I am beautiful; my distinctive blue eyes are bluer than the deepest blue seas. It feels like I hardly ever get time to just sit back and admire things. The joys of being a royal I suppose. My mind has been distracted by so many things recently. Even this morning I haven't been able to have a moment in my own head to myself. I've been so distracted and it's only 8 am. I decide I now look presentable enough to pass my mothers scrutiny and exit my room, making my way back towards Quinn's. I know that Blaine is with her and that she is safe, but it doesn't ease my overtly suspicious mind. I worry like crazy for my brother and sisters. I round the corner and see Quinn and Blaine talking softly outside her door. Her hand rests upon Blaine's arm and she's smiling in a flirtatious way. They'd make a beautiful couple. If it wasn't for the fact that Blaine is gay.

It's top secret information that only I know. I know he struggles with it in an awful way. Homosexuality is frowned upon by everybody. I am more of the opinion that love is love and who cares? I learnt in ancient history homosexuality was perfectly fine. They went round having sex with whoever tickled their fancy. So why is it wrong now?

Plus, I secretly have found myself attracted to females. So who am I to judge?

As I approach the two, Quinn quickly withdraws her hand and clears her throat, blushing slightly.

"Hey Britt."She smiles shyly at me. I smile at her reassuringly. I know she's embarrassed and ashamed and all sorts of things from earlier. I want to talk to her about everything to do with Rasputin and what the hell that disgusting troll is up to, but I know better than to push Quinn into talking about something she's not prepared to talk about. She'll tell me in her own time.

"Hey Munchkin." I tease her. Her eyes quickly darken in offence and she growls lightly. She hates being made fun of because she is shorter and younger than me. As quickly as the growl starts, it stops and her lips form into a mischievous smile.

"Hey Babushka"

I feign offense and put my hand to my heart and sniffle. She giggles and links arms with me. Idle chatter befalls us as we make our way to the dining hall.

The dining hall is a large room with various art pieces in which my family has collected from all over the world. Sometimes it feels like I'm walking through a room that takes you from the beginning of time until today. Other times I find it ridiculously morbid. There are some very sick depictions within the art work. The table is long with a long rich red table cloth covering it. Lying on top are different candlestick holders and various antique ornaments. The place settings are antique bone china and the cutlery is all silver. Every meal is eaten with the most precious of dining ware.

It's disgustingly over the top.

Quinn and I enter the room and silence falls upon the room. My father smiles at as warmly as he sits at the head of the table. My mother to the left of him has an unimpressed scowl on her face. Quinn stiffens beside me and I see that Rasputin is sat to the right of my father. I give her arm a reassuring squeeze as I take my place between my mother and Sam. Quinn takes her seat between Holly and Kitty.

At least Holly is between her and Rasputin.

My father smiles warmly as the servants begin to bring in our meals. He thanks them graciously. My mother on the other hand spends her time staring at Rasputin who is sending sideways glances at Quinn. Blaine stands behind them and clears his throat, Rasputin quickly averts his eyes. Dad frowns at this.

"Blaine, are you getting sick?"

"No your highness, just a tickle in my throat." he smiles.

"That's good, we can't be having the flu run rampant among the house hold. Given the current circumstances." Blaine's smile immediately disappears and a solemn look comes across his face. I frown.

"What current circumstances father?"Holly takes the words right out of my mouth.

"In good time my dear. For now enjoy your breakfast." He snaps. Holly and I look at each other frowning. What the hell is going on? Not wanting to press him further an awkward silence falls upon the table and the last of the breakfast is served. My father claps his hands, breaking the silence.

"Sammy boy, would you like to say grace today?"He asks him softly. Sam smiles and excitedly nods his head, bowing it. I watch as everybody else does so too. I'm the last to bow as Sam starts the prayer.

"Отче наш, сущий на небесах!  
_Our Father who art in heaven,  
_да святится имя Твое.  
_hallowed be Thy Name.  
_Да приидет Царствие Твое, да будет воля Твоя  
_Thy kingdom come, thy will be done,  
_на земле, как на небе.  
_on earth as it is in heaven.  
_Дай нам сегодня хлеб наш насущный,  
_Give us this day our daily bread,  
_и прости нам долги наши, как мы  
_and forgive us our trespasses, as we  
_прощаем должникам нашим.  
_forgive those who trespass against us.  
_И не введи нас в искушение,  
_And lead us not into temptation,  
_но избавь нас от лукавого.  
_but deliver us from evil._

Слава Отцу и Сыну и Святому Духу, и ныне и присно и до веков. Аминь.  
_Glory to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, both now and for ever and until the ages of ages. Amen_ "

Amen echoes throughout the hall as I pick up my spoon and the clinking and clattering of cutlery against china begins. I begin to eat my kasha and notice an awkward tension between my mother and father. I don't say anything though. Perhaps he found out about her affair with Rasputin. I look at Rasputin in disgust. He devours food like a snake. Plus it seems as if he is saving some fried egg for later in his beard. God he's so disgusting. I still don't understand why they continue to let this disgusting degenerate in the castle.

I promptly finish my Kasha and then drink some coffee before Marley comes in to advise Quinn, Sam and Kitty that their tutor is here. At this my father shakes his head, swallowing his last mouthful and wiping his mouth with the silk napkin. He clears his throat.

"Nobody will be doing any school work today." He calmly states Quinn, Holly and I look at him with a confused expression as Kitty and Sam promptly jump from their seats and do a victory dance.

"Return to your seats Samuel and Kitty. I have something important to tell you all."

Sam and Kitty promptly returned to their seats and we all sat in silence waiting for Dad to say what needed to be said. This conversation could be about two different things. He is either about to call my mother out on her sexual deviances with Rasputin or something has happened with Serbia and Austria-Hungary.

Over the last month Austria-Hungary and Serbia have been clashing after Archduke Franz Ferdinand was murdered by a young Serb in Sarajevo. Basically, Austria-Hungary was pissed, Serbia was pissed and everybody else was trying to find a way to calm the trigger happy Austria-Hungary down before a war broke out. Father had interests within the Balkans and saw the Balkan states as an extended arm of Russia, so was stressed at the prospect of Austria-Hungary doing something stupid within the Balkans.

"As you are all aware, Austria-Hungary offered Serbia an ultimatum. Last night Serbia agreed to only 8 of the ten demands Austria-Hungary made. As a consequence of that, Austria-Hungary has declared war on Serbia. As soon as I have finished explaining this to you all, I shall be meeting with the Duma and preparing to mobilize in support of Serbia. War will be declared promptly after." He finished and a heavy silence fell over the room, different from the curious silence before. My throat felt suddenly as if someone stuffed a billion marshmallows in it. I stare at Dad and notice the heavy bags around his eyes and increased wrinkles that seemingly have appeared over night.

"What does that mean daddy?"" Sam asks, confused about what he had said. Dad opens his mouth to answer him but is cut off by the giant troll sitting next to him.

"It means your father is an idiot!"Rasputin spits gruffly. I stare at him in shock. I've never heard him insult my father in front of him.

"RASPUTIN!" I startle as my father's voice bellows in a manner which I have never heard.

"Your opinion upon these matters is not wanted nor was it asked for, thus I recommend you keep your thoughts to yourself. And if you consider me such an idiot then I suggest you pack your bags and leave MY home, in which you are merely a GUEST."

"I'm sorry my Tsar." He whispers bowing his head.

"Sam, it means that as of today, Russia is at war with Austria-Hungary."

"I don't want to go to war daddy." Sam replies in a small voice.

"You won't be going to war son, you'll be safe here in St Petersburg or in Moscow." At this reassurance Sam smiles.

"Russia is going to lose this war." Rasputin mutters loud enough for the whole table to hear

"Excuse me?"My father asks in a forceful tone.

"I said I shall pray for Russia."Rasputin lies easily. My father glares at him and then turns to Blaine and another Cossack Karofsky.

"Blaine, Karofsky please escort Rasputin back to his private quarters. I have matters to discuss in private with my family." Rasputin doesn't even bother to argue as the burly Karofsky moves to guide Rasputin out of his seat. As they vacate the dining room Rasputin starts mouthing off. Blaine quickly closes the door and his shouting is muffled.

My father turns to us all and smiles softly. I know this smile, it's a reassuring smile. It's a smile warning us he's about to tell us something we don't want to hear. I glance and Holly and she noticeably stiffens and my father's smile.

"There is more for me to say upon this matter. Once our troops have been mobilized, I want to join our troops on the front." At this everybody takes in a sharp breath. Everybody except Holly.

"Are you fucking kidding? Father what the hell are you doing that for? You are going to be KILLED! Who is going to handle matters at home?! You honestly can't tell me you trust Mother with that wild oaf of a man around?!" She yells exactly what I'm thinking. Just with more expletives.

"HOLLY! I WIL NOT HAVE YOU TALK ABOUT YOUR MOTHER IN THAT MANNER!" Father yells. My mother remains quiet. She knows that because of the manner in which she has behaved with Rasputin, one small slip of the word from Holly or I at this point would have her packed and shipped out as a on the frontlines. Or just simply killed.

Holly sits down and shuts up. She is shaking with anger. I know deep down her anger is more worry for our father. I bite my lip. I'm horrified by this.

"My decision will be made under guidance from the Duma and Nikolai. I will be joining our soldiers on the front if I am granted permission. They will need a boost or morale. And what kind of Tsar would I be if I were to send troops to fight without support."

"But father you can support them from here!" Quinn states simply.

"You know that once war is declared from Russia, Germany will declare not long after. Cousin Wilhelm has been looking for an excuse to expand his empire. Why not use this as an excuse? I want to support my troops in a way the other countries will not."

After this statement silence falls once again, cloaking the 7 of us in an uncomfortable blanket of worry. After a few minutes a knock disturbs us all from our thoughts and Blaine and Karofsky enter again, this time followed by Uncle Nikolai.

"Nicholas, it is time to meet with the Duma." Nikolai's voice booms gruffly. Father nods and places his napkin from his lap on to his plate then gets up from the table. Nobody knows what to say from this point. As he approaches the door, he turns to us and clears his throat.

"I'm sorry I have to be doing this. I do not want any of you to ever see the horrors that war can bring, but this is important to us as a nation. It is important that we uphold and support our allies and our interests. I know that you all may not agree with war. But I implore you to see this from mine and the Duma's stand point. I love you all." And with that he exits the dining room. The door closing echoes throughout the silent dining hall.

"What the hell just happened?"Quinn asks taking the words right out of my mouth.


	5. A Fairy At My Doorstep

**A/N: Hey guys, I must apologise for the long wait for an update, but I have a legitimate reason. I have a dislocated shoulder and so am typing one handed. It's rather difficult.**

**So the next chapter may be a while too.**

**Thank you to all those who have reviewed, favourited and followed. You guys are awesome.**

**Anyways, if there are any questions or you just wanna chat, hit me up on Tumblr: Reverenceforfallentrees or twitter: DreamMerchant87**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

**All mistakes are my own.**

* * *

**Please Review**

* * *

**July 29**

**Santana**

Today my past is haunting me.

It's late morning and here I lie, awake in my bed staring up at the wooden roof of the caravan. It's one of those days where I think about everything, I relive everything. I feel like I shouldn't get out of bed, for if I do, something terrible will happen. Noah has already tried to get me up, he went as far as trying to pick me up and throw me out, but I kneed him in the balls by accident.

Okay, maybe it wasn't by accident.

I miss my old life. I miss my home and I miss my things. I know they don't exist anymore because of the fire, but I miss them. What have I got now? Nothing. A small caravan I share with my brother and sister. I know other people are always like, "well at least you have each other. But, each other doesn't count for anything when you have lost everything.

I can't even remember the last time I felt at peace with myself. Life has taught me that you think you have forever, but you don't. I just need a sign. I need a reason to get out of bed. I need some hope, and in the absence of hope, I need to stay in bed and feel like the world is going to end.

I can hear the handful of children playing around our caravan, that now sits beside the Moskva river. There's splashing and hollering. The laughter, so innocent, pierces my heart as I remember doing similar things with my friends and family when I was younger. I miss those times. I miss everything.

I kind of hate my life right now.

I roll over and cover my ears with my hands. I can't deal with happiness. Today I just want to close out the world and ignore everything. I crave peace. I chuckle to myself at the thought I'll never be at peace anywhere. With Rachel as my sister and Noah as my brother, nowhere is peaceful. So perhaps at peace was the wrong wording. I crave something.

I close my eyes and begin to sing softly to myself. A song my mother used to sing to me when I was younger.

"_Tengo una muñeca vestida de azul  
con su camisita y su canesú,  
la saqué a paseo y se me constipó,  
la tengo en la cama con mucho dolor.  
Esta mañanita me dijo el Doctor  
que le dé jarabe con un tenedor.  
Dos y dos son cuatro, cuatro y dos son seis,  
seis y dos son ocho y ocho dieciseis,  
y ocho veinticuatro y ocho treinta y dos,  
ánimas benditas, me arrodillo yo.  
Soy el farolero de la Puerta 'el Sol,  
cojo mi escalera y enciendo un farol,  
después de encendido me pongo a contra  
y siempre me sale la cuenta fatal.  
Dos y dos son cuatro, cuatro y dos son seis,  
seis y dos son ocho y ocho dieciseis,  
y ocho veinticuatro y ocho treinta y dos,  
ánimas benditas, me arrodillo yo."_

As I finish singing a light knock raps on the caravan door. I frown, Puck and Rachel don't knock when I want privacy, they just bowl on in without care nor consideration as to A.) what I'm doing and B.) my feelings. I just ignore the knock and hope that who ever it is will go away. I fiddle with the lose stitching of my blanket when the light knock raps again. I sigh. Whoever it is will get the hint if I don't answer the door surely.

The knock rings out again but this time is followed by a voice.

"I know you are in there, would you please be considerate and open the door?"

I frown again I have no idea who that voice belongs to. Grumbling I throw my blankets off and shuffle towards the door, upon opening it I'm greeted with an immaculately dressed, pixie faced boy with a huge smile upon his face.

"Can I help you?" I grumble, squinting as the sun burns my eyes.

"Pardon my intrusion, I don't normally knock upon strangers doors, but as I was passing, I heard you singing and had to come and meet you." The pixie faced boy rushed out in excitement. I raise in eyebrow and an awkward silence befalls us.

"You sing like an angel." He smiles

"I sing like I smoke too many cigars" I snap back, I can't deal with this happiness today. Perhaps if I am bitter the pixie boy will go away.

"No, you sing like you were born to." He replies simply

"Okay..." I reply in a questioning way and he smiles again. I can't deal with this smiling thing he has going on.

"Is there anything else I can help you with? Or was that it?" I ask aggressively as he scans my body. It's making me feel anymore uncomfortable.

"Sorry, yes I was just thinking and, admiring. More so admiring." He replies

"Um, sorry lady-face you aren't my type."

"No, no, you are mistaken." He replies

"I'm Kurt Hummel." He smiles his freakish mythical smile at me. I really didn't know pixies existed until now. Cautiously I shake his hand. And nod as realization dawns upon me.

"You're Burt's son?" I question. And he nods quickly. Burt Hummel had been gracious enough to allow Puck to be his student. He was a black smith and Puck was only educated in the ways with wood. It was common knowledge that the need of a carpenter was slowly diminishing and that metal of all different shades was what was used to fashion things from now.

"I'm Santana Lopez, Pucks sister." An unrecognizable look flutters across Kurt's face.

"I didn't realize Puck came from such beautiful lineage." He replied as I blush.

"Mister Hummel are you flirting with me?" I ask raising an eyebrow, not beating around the bush.

"Oh good lord no. No. ABSOLUTELY NOT. Like I said before, you are mistaken. I am of the male persuasion." He replies, the last bit quieter than everything else he had said. I frown.

"What does that even mean?" I question, I'm so confused.

"I do not fancy myself with women." And then realization dawned upon me. Having to live the way in which we've had to, I'd learnt of many things I had been sheltered from back in Spain, one of which was homosexuality. Everybody detested it. I was confused about it. Love is love, but love with someone of the same sex was difficult for me to comprehend.

I look at Kurt's face and realize my silence has caused him to panic. I clear my throat and smile at him awkwardly.

" I've never met anybody who was a fairy" I smile at him awkwardly again. He laughs heartily at me and I blush.

"A fairy? Darling I love you already." He squeals and moves towards me as if he wants to hug me, I shy away from him, he notices and sighs softly.

"You aren't going to catch it, it's not a contagious disease, I assure you." I chuckle at him and smirk.

"I wasn't worried about catching your gay. More, whatever else you are harboring." He looks at me shocked and then brings me in for a hug again.

"You and I are going to be very good friends miss Lopez, very good indeed."

I smile at him. I don't think I've had a friend since we left Spain. I've kind of kept to myself, for fear I may attract the wrong kind of person. I also think it's my first genuine smile since leaving Spain. It's a weird feeling. He looks up at me and shuffles. I realize I'm still half in the caravan and looking down at him.

"Sorry, how rude of me. Would you like a drink?" I ask and he nods at me enthusiastically.

"We have, vodka, coffee, water, vodka and vodka." I smile and he chuckles

"I'll have a coffee" He replies and I nod and retreat back into the caravan. When I realise I've left him just standing outside. I pop back out.

"Go sit on the wooden seat around the campfire just round the corner facing the river, I'll meet you out there." He nods and moves around the side of the caravan and I head back inside preparing the coffee. A warm feeling fills me that I haven't felt in a while. Is it happiness? Or perhaps excitement that I now have a friend?

Whatever it is it's a pleasant feeling and I'm distracted by it as I make the coffees and leave the caravan for the first time all day. I hand Kurt his coffee and take a seat next to him. We sit quietly drinking and watching the kids play in the river.

"Do you work with your father? Doing blacksmithing things?" I ask, breaking the comfortable silence that fell between us.

"Oh, dear lord no. I could never do such work. It is not fitting for me." He replies shocked that I'd even ask him such a question.

"What is it that you do then?" I inquire

"I make clothing. Using the finest materials I can muster." He replies taking a sip of his coffee.

"Did you make your clothes?" I ask curious, I'd never met a male fashion designer. Just tailors.

"Yes, though I'm much better at creating women's clothing. I wish I could go to Paris and see the couture they create there." He says dreamily and I smile.

"I've been to Paris. On our way here we went through France. It's a very beautiful city. I wish we had the chance to spend more time there."

"Perhaps when I am a famous fashion designer you can be the person who models the clothing." He smiles at me and I blush.

"What would you call yourself Hummel design?" I ask, Kurt seems like a dreamer, so surely he has his dreams planned out.

"Well I'd…" But before Kurt could finish his sentence he's cut off by yelling.

"War declared" the voice yells coming closer, foot steps beating down on the earth. I frown at Kurt as he does the same to me.

"War declared" the voice yells again and Kurt looks down as if contemplating. What the hell is going on?

"Did he just say war has been declared?" Kurt asks me and I scrunch up my face, still confused

"I think so?"

"War declared" The voice booms and as he comes into view we can see it is a Cossack. He quickly rushes past us. The colour drains from my face. And I sit my cup down, Kurt does the same and we quickly follow after the man. His voice still booming throughout the encampment

"War declared"

We catch up to the Cossack when he slows down to a walk as we reach the centre of the encampment, it's kind of like a gypsy town square. The Cossack takes a deep breathe and yells again:

"War declared"

I look around and see everybody congregating. I see Rachel emerge from seemingly nowhere, she spies me and comes over to join us frowning.

"Did he say war has been declared?" she asks hurriedly. Kurt and I both nod at her quickly. The man then lifts up his hand and bellows to the loud crowd gathered.

"Silence!"

Instantly everybody quiets and the man looks around at us all. As if reading our faces, waiting for a dramatic reaction.

"As of this morning Tsar Nicholas II and the Duma have collectively decided to mobilize for war against Austria-Hungary."

The man then retreats from the centre of the crowd and makes his way away from the encampment.

"War has been declared?" a voice questions, then the whole congregation explodes

"War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" "War has been declared!" it becomes a panicked chant

"RUSSIA HAS DECLARED WAR ON AUSTRIA-HUNGARY." Another voice yells from within the crowd. At that declaration all hell breaks lose as people push past us in a panic. People are crying holding on to each other as if we are being invaded at this instant.

There was a time when the Russian nation would be proud to serve their country. At the moment, it feels like the whole camp is covered in a weird combination of despair and excitement. Rachel, Kurt and I stand still, shocked. Knowing the implications of war with Austria-Hungary.

We aren't just gypsies, we are educated, who read the newspapers, we are people with knowledge of diplomacy and tensions within Europe.

We look at each other each knowing that because of this, Germany will surely declare war too. War is such a hideous part of human nature. I don't agree with it at all. I'm glad I won't be sent to war as I am just a lowly female. Oh no.

My eyes widen in horror as realisation dawns upon me.

"Noah!" I yell

The colour drains from Rachel's face and we both quickly run towards where he works with Burt, Kurt hot on our heels.


	6. River Side Sorrow, Kremlin Contemplation

**A/N: I am sorry about the time it has taken to update, really I am. I am now out of my sling and in physio for my stupid shoulder so it's far easier to write, though this chapter was so ridiculously difficult to write, and I have no idea why. It's not as good as I'd like it to be but it encompasses all I needed it to, so I guess that's something.**

**Thank you all so much for your reviews, follows and favourites. I feel so special knowing you guys are liking this story :)**

**Thanks to Rune for listening to me bitch about this chapter. :)**

* * *

**August 18**

**1****914**

**Santana**

* * *

I sit on the banks of the Moskva River, absentmindedly throwing stones in as I contemplate life and everything that's happened recently. I feel like all I do these days is argue, contemplate, sing, fortune tell. Rinse, lather, repeat.

I sigh in frustration tossing a stone as hard as I can. Grumbling.

It happened.

_It really happened._

I'm not exactly sure how I feel about it either. I'm scared of course. Of course I'm scared, but when it happened, there was nothing I could do to prevent it. I couldn't appeal to any senses. This sense of needing to protect in which Noah has, what I believe, unnecessarily had thrust upon his shoulders, he is taking far too seriously.

So it happened.

And with it came a war. Between the three of us, Rachel and I allied against the stubborn Noah. For days, our little caravan was filled with arguments, with yelling. With people throwing things and others, namely Rachel, repeatedly storming out. So today, Noah packed his rucksack and started his journey to St Petersburg where he is going to enlist.

Essentially; going to St Petersburg to _die_.

Kurt keeps telling me not to think about it like that, that what Noah is doing is brave and for the best. That it's probably better for him actively deciding to join the army instead of waiting to be bullied into it.

_Conscripted._

And I know logically that Kurt is right, but on another level, at the forefront of my mind, knowing Noah actively made a decision to essentially commit suicide at the hands of war, is both distressing and disturbing.

Actually, I do know how I feel about it. I'm angry, that he has the audacity to do this to us. We've lost everyone. Soon it'll just be Rachel and I.

My _optimism_ towards war is _bountiful_.

I am bought out of my revere by footsteps approaching; I turn and Smile slightly up at my visitor. He approaches softly looking grim and takes a seat beside me.

"He's gone?" he asks quietly.

A lump forms in my throat and I can't reply I just nod as I feel tears well up in my eyes. And a masculine arm wraps around me. As my resolve dissolves I burst into tears. Burying my face into his shoulder.

Kurt rubs my back and just lets me cry. He doesn't question, he doesn't tell me everything is going to be fine. He doesn't offer advice or condolences. He just is. Kurt gets me. I don't need fake sympathy right now. I need someone who understands the gravity of the situation.

Don't get me wrong I know plenty of people are sitting in similar situations throughout Russia and perhaps Europe, but they aren't me. They haven't suffered like I have so while I know there are others suffering, I'm going to take this moment of being completely selfish, until I can pull myself together and take over Noah's role as head of the family.

An hour later my small body stops shaking and the tears stop flowing. I look up at Kurt's pixie face and sniff, so unladylike.

"Thank you" I whisper in a hoarse voice. Kurt just smiles softly at me and nods. A silent understanding. I lean away from him, freeing his arm and watch as he shakes it out.'

"Have you decided on what you are going to do?"I ask him quietly. Kurt is in the same position as Noah, an able bodied male.

"I am not military material." he replies simply and I sigh in relief. For now I still have Kurt.

"What happens when they start forcing people to join? Will you run?" I ask, genuinely interested in his thinking.

"I will do whatever is necessary to ensure I don't get enlisted."He says with a conviction I have never heard from him before.

"I can't lose you too."I whisper. We have not known each other for long. But I love Kurt, like I love Noah. I'll never admit it out loud of course.

"We will have to cross that bridge when we arrive at it. You need to stop thinking about this stuff Santana; you're just going to make yourself sick in the mind." Kurt simply says.

I have nothing else to say to him after that. He's right of course. Again, I'd never tell him that. But by the silence I think he knows. We both sit, silently staring at the river, the encampment is beginning to get loud, and people are starting to head into town, getting ready to work another night. During the day business is steady but not nearly as lucrative as at night. At night it becomes more of a spectacle. More money is thrown around. The drunker the patron, the higher you get paid.

Sometimes living this way makes me feel like a common whore.

Kurt turns and watches as caravans start to leave. He sighs and runs his hand through his perfectly styled hair. He then turns to me, clearing his throat.

"Should we get ready?" he asks and I nod. He stands first, dusting himself off, then holds his hand out of me and smiles

"Madam?" I giggle and take his hand. Linking my arm through his. As we make our way back to our caravans to prepare for a busy night.

* * *

**August 18**

**1914**

**Brittany**

* * *

Sometimes, it's like you think things can't get any worse. But then life takes you by surprise and everything you think you knew about the world comes crashing down around you. The day Father declared that the Russian army was mobilising for war against Austria-Hungary we were told to pack our bags and that we were to go on holiday. Who does that?

"Oh yes, we are preparing for a potentially disastrous war, must send children and wife away on boat to enjoy summer." Is not the rational thinking of the leader of a country is it?

I keep wondering about father's decision to do this. It's flawed in so many ways and it showed, the following day, whilst upon the ship, Germany declared war upon Russia.

I knew that cousin Wilhelm would declare war. But deep down I was hoping he didn't. I wouldn't declare war on my cousin. But perhaps I hold family in higher esteem than Wilhelm? I don't know. People have their priorities all screwed up at the moment and it's legitimately doing my head in.

As a show of some form of solidarity or something father decided that Holly, Quinn and I would accompany him to Moscow for a week to garner support from the people.

Which really means, Holly, Quinn and I are spending our days locked inside the Kremlin as father talks, plans and strategizes his way into winning the war?

Apparently having us here will raise _morale._

Since war was declared, I've felt this ever growing sense of claustrophobia. I am surrounded by guards at all times; I cannot even go to the bathroom without anybody being informed. Its as if I am a precious china doll that nobody wants to fall and smash everywhere.

I have this longing to sneak out in the middle of the night, to just disappear. Maybe grab Blaine and together we can run away.

I want to go to the Orient. Ever since father decided that war with Japan would be an excellent idea the culture has fascinated me. Blaines family comes from near the border of China and Mongolia, maybe we could go stay there and escape into the sunset.

Or maybe to Greece. The Greeks have such a rich history. I am fascinated by how they have helped developed the modern world. What has Russia given the world as a whole? Vodka and Anna Pavlova.

Such significant contributions.

Sighing, I come to the realisation that instead of dreaming about leaving on adventures and perhaps disappearing completely from the world, that I have to start small. I have to start by expanding this barrier placed upon me by my title and pushing the limits that are in place.

I smile to myself as the idea fills me. I'm only a couple of blocks from Red Square. Excitement fills me and I jump from my seat now on a mission to find Blaine.


End file.
